


Radioactive

by Sugarfire (SephMichiRook)



Series: Simply Complicated [9]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Poorly Justified Denial of Feelings, RvB Fluff Week, cute critters, grif being lazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 19:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6672523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SephMichiRook/pseuds/Sugarfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight people are sent out to check the radiation levels at Armonia.  Wash and Simmons discover that nature endures in the cutest way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radioactive

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was Simmons and Wash appreciating nature, ship status my choice. I'm still trying to figure out how it got this big. 
> 
> Set in my post-13 story, in which six members of the gang got the Epsilon fragments.
> 
> Palomo inherited a department store after they sorted out all the old property records after the war.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Simmons asked as they reached their first set of coordinates. They were out scouting the edges of Armonia less than twenty-four hours after the Temple of Environmental Control had mysteriously activated, and a strange energy signature had briefly appeared in the area most affected by the radiation. Simmons stowed his rifle and pulled out a research kit to begin taking samples, while Wash established a perimeter.

“What?” Wash asked in his too innocent voice.

“Managed to get the rest of the team to agree to split up by starting a competition,” Simmons said, getting the drill set up for soil samples. “Not that I’m complaining, it’ll probably be easier and faster this way, but still, kinda out of character for you disregard safety for quick. Gamma, how’s the calibration?”

The mission was to check radiation levels in a danger zone. The most dangerous thing out here was likely to be the air they breathed or an occasional wild animal. So Wash had suggested they split up to get it done quicker. When a few of them :coughGrifcough: had balked at having to actually pay attention, it became a competition. The winner got the losers to do their midnight guard duties for the next month. The group of eight had split up into four teams. The rules were simple. First ones done with their cluster of four or five sites and back to the pelican won. And since some people :coughTuckercough: had more AI and couldn’t share with Palomo or Jenson, they weren’t allowed to help.

“The scanner is ready to begin. Would you like me to run it?” Gamma asked.

“Just consolidate the data for now,” Simmons said, because he didn’t believe for a second that Sigma and the Twins were just hanging out twiddling their thumbs, but he wasn’t ready to break the rules just yet.

“Well, that and Palomo offered me fifty dollars in store credit for some alone time with Jenson,” Wash admitted. “It’s not like this is all that dangerous. We should be fine in teams of two.”

“Seriously? You’re playing Cupid for Palomo?” Simmons asked, incredulous. He liked Katie, she was a good person, and Palomo was, well, Tucker Jr. “Wait, you’re doing it to piss Tucker off, aren’t you?”

“Well, and the seven free weeks of armor maintenance from Jenson,” Wash said, unrepentant. “Pissing off Tucker’s just a bonus.”

“WHAT!?!” Simmons yelled jumping up and spinning on the former Freelancer, who just looked at him and chuckled.

“And there’s bonus number two,” Wash admitted, his smile in his voice.

“And what’s that?” Simmons asked, pissed, and if he was honest, a little jealous. Seven weeks? SEVEN?

“Mmmm, that squeak you get when you start freaking out,” Wash said, going back to his pacing, looking at the surrounding landscape. “It’s cute.”

Simmons was grateful for his visor as his face heated up. Must have been all the radiation in the area. “Cute?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be concentrating on your equipment?” Wash was suddenly very interested in some sort of beetle on a leaf of a bush. “Besides, you were the one that picked a fight with Grif right before we landed.”

Simmons rolled his eyes as he turned back to the portable sample analyzer. The radiation levels in the air weren't just safe, they were damn near non-existent. “No, Gamma picked a fight with Sigma. It just happened to make it impossible for them to work together today.” It sometimes amazed Simmons Sigma managed to create the Meta, considering how easy it could be to bait him sometimes. “And I would like to actually win something for once. Grif would probably fall asleep at our first stop, and then we’d never get done.”

“At least he’s got Lopez on his team,” Wash said. “I’m kind of worried about Doc and Tucker.”

“No,” Simmons said absently as the deep soil sample came up. He dumped it into the analyzer. “Doc’s only a goof up some of the time, and Tucker wants to win, and they’re both in pretty good shape, so the cross country shouldn't be a problem. They’ll be fine. In fact, they’re probably our only competition.”

“If they don’t kill each other first,” Wash said. “And why are you noticing how good in shape they are in?”

“Hey, you’re the one that’s making us all doing warm ups together,” Simmons pointed out. “It’s hard not to notice who’s running in front of me. Jealous much?”

“Hey Wash,” Gamma said, popping up next to the ex-freelancer’s shoulder. “What‘s forty-two?”

More than happy to end this sudden conversation derailment, because no, he wasn’t jealous, not even a little bit, Wash decided to play along, for once. “The meaning of life and everything?”

“No. It‘s the number of times Simmons focused on-”

“I’m going to pull you and lock you in a box, I swear to God,” Simmons growled threateningly.

“No, I want to know,” Wash asked teasingly.

“You can’t believe anything he says,” Simmons said, a little bit of panic hitting his voice. Wash and Gamma both chuckled.

“Okay, okay,” Wash said, and Gamma blinked back out. “So, I doubt we have anything to worry about from Palomo and Jenson. Too distracted.”

“And losing gives them even more alone time, so they’re probably trying to lose,” Simmons agreed, relaxing. “And I doubt even Sigma can get Grif to get motivated enough to win. I’d be more worried about Lopez getting back alone. He has a thing for strangling Grifs.” s

“Grifs. Plural,” Wash said, skeptical. “Is that what happened to Sister?”

“Well, that’s what Donut said Lopez said, and you know how reliable that is,” Simmons was completely absorbed in the read out. “This is amazing,” he said, awed.

“Are they goo-” Wash was interrupted by a high pitched noise coming from a the forest about fifty yards away from them. “What the hell?” Wash asked, looking for a visible source. The noise came again, and it was definitely organic, and small. And just like that, Wash was off for the tree line, Simmons right behind him, instructing Gamma to continue running the tests. The screeching, which had been joined by a slightly different, pulsating high pitched noise, stopped with a thunk--

Wash saw it first, and dropped into a crouch. He was pushing his hands through the branches of the bush he was using for cover to get a clearer view when Simmons skidded to a stop next to him. “Wha- Awk!” Simmons squawked as Wash grabbed him by the top of the chest piece and yanked him down next to him. Wash put a finger up to his ‘lips,’ then began parting the branches again. “Damn, we weren’t exactly quiet,” Simmons whispered. “They obviously don’t care we’re here.”

“You don’t know that,” Wash whispered back. ‘They’ were some sort of native animal, a cross between a cat, a fox, and a flying squirrel. The screeching was one of the cubs hanging upside down from a branch, where an adult in was scratching at the claws and making an occasional chatter. Three other cubs were scurrying around on the ground, making the high pitched huffing noises as they looked up. One climbed up the tree to a higher branch, then launched itself at the scared one. The screeching stopped when the showoff hit the branch next to the adult and the hanging one with a loud thunk. It somehow managed to get his front two paws on the branch as the other four began making the huffing noise. He chittered at them, then dropped to glide back down to the forest floor.

“Look familiar?” Simmons said, snickering. Wash turned his head to glare at him for ruining the moment.

“You mean like Red Team drilling?” he shot back, turning back as the adult managed to pull one of the front paws away from the tree, and the squealing got even louder.

“Oh no, that’s definitely YOUR team. See, there’s Carolina and Doc on the ground yelling instructions, and that’s you up there, trying to get Tucker to do something, and-” they both winced as the showoff hit the branch again- “That’s totally Caboose trying to get your attention.”

“Oh no, that’s definitely you, kissing up to Sarge up there,” Wash said as Showoff dropped back down again. “Oh, and trying to show Grif there how to do it, while Donut and Lopez are on the ground, yelling encouragement.” He looked at Simmons out of the corner of his eye. “And since when is Doc on our team?”

“Hey, he was on your organizational chart, right?” Simmons asked huffily. “And Tucker picked him today.”

“Seriously?”

“Completely,” Simmons said. At that moment, the Showoff managed to land on the branch, and the Scaredy Cat let go, and managed to get flipped over and glide down to the ground, and Showoff and Team Dad jumped off and followed. The two on the ground ran up and began grooming Scaredy Cat, and the laughing had stopped. Team Dad came up, making a huffing scolding noise, and the four cubs were herded back up the tree to try again. “They’re very interesting,” Wash said. “Kinda cute, actually.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Simmons said. “From a distance.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Wash said in a way that had Simmons looking at him sideways. “What?”

“Nothing,” Simmons said, and turned back to the fittens, who were now wrestling over Scaredy Cat landing on Showoff, while the other two groomed each other, and Team Dad sat nearby, looking over it all. “You like animals?”

“Some. Furry ones,” Wash said, distracted.

“What about birds?” Simmons asked.

“I’ve never really thought about it.” Wash said. “Why?”

“No reason,” Simmons said. “Reptiles?”

“Noooope,” Wash said with a shudder. “Almost as bad as spiders.”

“Oh, good,” Simmons said. Wash finally looked back at Simmons, but he was focused on the fittens.

Wash and Simmons squatted there for a few more minutes, until Simmons had to change position, which knocked them both into the bush they were hiding behind, and sent the creatures running. “Nice one,” Simmons said, managing to get to his feet first.

“Hey, you moved first,” Wash said, taking the hand Simmons extended, and let the Red pull him to his feet. “I could have stayed there for a while.” He reached out and pulled a few twigs out of the Red’s armor, and went still as Simmons reached behind his helmet. “What are you-”

“Holy shit!” Grif’s voice cut through on the general channel, causing them to both jump apart, Simmons with a branch he was getting out of Wash‘s back piece in his hand. “Where the fuck is everyone? Lopez and I are back at the pelican. I guess we win.”

Wash and Simmons looked at each other, then ran back to the forgotten equipment as Tucker and Doc called bullcrap on Grif, explaining they were only just starting their third site. Palomo and Jenson also protested, but without letting how far they had gotten out.

“We had a problem with the sampler,” Wash said. “We haven’t even been to our second site.”  
He switched to a private channel he and Simmons had set up a few months ago. “Gamma, are we done here?”

“If you mean ‘me’ when you say ‘we,’ then yes,” Gamma said. “All radiation levels have dropped to below dangerous levels.”

“Then let's get moving,” Simmons said, beginning to pack up the sampling station.

Lopez cut in, yelling something. “What do you mean he didn’t even leave the Pelican?” Doc asked, having been taking actual Spanish lessons since the robot had moved in with him and Donut.

“Grif did leave the pelican,” Sigma said. “He just returned to get a replacement part. We will be rejoining you soon, Lopez.”

“God damn it, Sigma, you’re supposed to be on my side!” Grif yelled into the radio, causing enough feedback that everyone muted him instantly.

Simmons had packed up, so Wash and he began hiking to their next site about two miles away. “Grif is kinda right, Sig,” Simmons said. “You shouldn‘t be ratting on him like that.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tucker said. “Fucker’s trying to cheat, and you want to kiss his ass long distance. Typical.”

“I hope not,” Wash said to Simmons over their private channel.

Wash could see Simmons glaring at him through his visor. “Bite me.”

“Later, after we win this thing, soldier,” Wash said nonchalantly.

Simmons tripped over air. “Yes, sir.”

“Gamma, you are indeed wrong about me not having a sense of humor,” Sigma said over the radio. “All this back and forth is very amusing, considering.”

Gamma, watching Simmons’ and Wash’s vitals, had to agree. 


End file.
